


Contracts of Adhesion

by ladyptarmigan



Series: Insurance Protocols [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, Catra Redemption Arc, Each Part can be read Stand Alone, F/F, Three part series, catradora, looking at that process of growth and change and healing, what would realistically make catra leave the horde?, why is hordak on etheria and what are his actual goals?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 05:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyptarmigan/pseuds/ladyptarmigan
Summary: “I am the one who decides how the Horde will best serve,” Hordak’s voice cuts through tense, horrified silence.The prongs of his spear dig into Catra’s neck where it pins her to a console. Adora doesn’t lower her sword, but the unnatural brightness of her eyes gutters out.  Her heart feels squeezed by a fist.“Leave now, or your friend dies.”[Catra redemption arc set to three parts]





	Contracts of Adhesion

* * *

_An adhesion contract is a legally binding agreement between two parties to do a certain thing, in which one side has all the bargaining power and uses it to write the contract primarily to his or her advantage([.](https://legal-dictionary.thefreedictionary.com/Adhesion+Contract))_

* * *

Adora stands, palms resting on the war table.

“Your majesty, I know it’s a risk. Any time we enter Horde territory is a risk. But we can’t stay on the defensive, waiting for the Horde to attack civilian targets and create new weapons,” she says with measured confidence. “The reactor we’re targeting is the main power source for their science and robot manufacturing, along with a sizable portion of secondary agriculture. Damage here will be a significant impairment to Horde activities.”

“That’s true, but I’m still concerned this approach will only escalate the conflict,” Queen Angella says. "The plan itself is risky, as well."

Glimmer grins. “Pound for pound, every fighter we have is stronger than anything they can come up with. Bringing the fight to the Fright Zone with its smaller, enclosed areas means they can’t use sheer numbers against us.”

“And any collateral damage they cause with heavy fire will impact their own infrastructure rather than ours,” Adora continues the argument smoothly.

Queen Angella sighs and nods. They have become quite the team, for good or ill.

”Don’t worry, Glimmer knows she has to take it easy. We’ll be relying on her and Swift Wind for our retreat. They know not to use too much energy during the early stages of the infiltration.”

“Another thing,” Glimmer says, looking across the table, “We were wondering if Netossa would join us on this one. She could prevent Horde reinforcements from getting through; help keep this a quick, in and out strike.” She jabs at the air with glowing fists for emphasis.

“I’m in,” Netossa says, head resting on her steepled hands.

“Netossa!” says Spinnerella. “What if something happens to you and I’m not there to help?”

“What do you think, maybe she could stay back with Swift Wind? Help us retreat if we get into trouble?” Netossa asks, smiling at Spinnerella and grabbing one of her hands. 

“I don’t see a problem with that,” Adora nods. “With her help Swift Wind could probably carry another passenger anyhow, and travel faster too.”

Queen Angella stands. “Alright. I don’t like this, but the plan sounds workable. Let’s go through this again, from the beginning. And I had better hear your plan for 'everything in the original plan goes wrong'.”

* * *

“Blah blah blah, Princess attack in two days, got it,” Catra says from her awkward, reclining position on a piece of machinery.

Despite his metal visage, Hordak’s scowl is readily apparent. The 2D image on the screen is a perfect picture of disapproval.

“I assume you are aware of the implications should they manage any serious damage to the sector 3 reactor."

Catra waves dismissively. “They couldn’t have convinced the entire princess squad to come that deep into Fright Zone territory. This’ll be a few people, tops. All we have to do is injure one enough to force them into a retreat. I’m not sweating it.”

“If we lose any critical infrastructure I will place _you_ in charge of repairs,” Hordak threatens mildly.

“It’s not like we'll be surprised by this attack, anyhow. Though, I am curious. How did you find out in the first place?” Catra says.

Hordak’s image just stares at her, inclining his head.

“Don’t tell me they have a traitor. I’m thinking… they don’t know how to use their inside voices while strolling through the friendship forest. Or is the rebellion just _that_ predictable?” she says, laughing.

Hordak smirks, “They discussed their plans while setting up a forward camp in an unmanned utility station. It was however manned with monitoring equipment that had audio capabilities.”

Catra almost groans out loud.

_Really, Adora?_

What a dolt. Adora is clearly doing just wonderful without her, she thinks with a chuckle.

“Why don’t we just set up an ambush there?” she asks.

“That is one of the options available to you. With teleportation available to them, that area is not ideal for forcing them into a corner. But there are advantages to keeping the fight out of deep Horde territory. More is at stake here than a single tactical objective,” he says, pausing for emphasis, “This defense falls under your responsibilities. Requisition any resources you need, and be prepared by noon tomorrow. You have your orders.”

* * *

Glimmer shuts the door gently behind her as she leaves Adora’s room.

Bow is waiting in the corridor, anticipation on his face. “Is she still practicing?”

“She is now trying to do 500 push ups,” Glimmer says, hand to her face.

“I’m getting kind of worried. Doesn’t it seem like Adora is getting a little… _hardcore_ lately. With all the military stuff.”

Glimmer nods.

“Maybe we all need a break, after this,” Bow says.

“She’ll probably say we need to ‘capitalize on the advantage we created’,” she says, laughing.

“Probably,” Bow grins. “We are going to capitalize on our advantage by teaching Adora about ice cream.”

“I like that plan!” Glimmer grins. “What do you think her favorite flavor will be?”

“I want to say butter pecan. But…” he pauses, “Nope, I’m going with classic vanilla.”

“That’s cheating, Bow!” she exclaims, laughing heartily.

Joking plasters a thin layer over their anxiety. They both know it, but they have lived their entire lives under the shadow of at least low level threat. Taking joy in the moment is one of the most important ways they have learned to rebel.

Bow scratches the back of his head, grinning.

Unfortunately, Adora has trouble setting aside her worries, even temporarily. The two of them go quiet, looking at each other and then back at Adora’s door.

As strong as Adora is, she is just one person. She gets hit hard every single time they are too late to protect a village. The horde has already realized they can capitalize on the fact that She-ra can't fight in two places at once. Every time still feels like a failure, though.

They all feel that same desire to do something, anything, to strike back. Using Adora’s knowledge of the Fright Zone’s layout to cause real damage seems like the best move.

But they cannot shake the sense that something won’t go according to plan. But then, what does, in life?

* * *

They move into the Fright Zone a few hours after sunset.

Adora crouches low behind some defensive walls. “Alright, Spinnerella. You and Swift Wind head up into the skies, stay out of sight range.”

The pair nod, taking off with a smooth leap. A gentle updraft buffets them practically straight up.

“There are two layers of security checkpoints, we are going to be teleporting past them one by one. Ready, Glimmer?” Adora asks.

Glimmer nods, face serious.

Adora’s familiarity with the layout of the Fright Zone is almost as much of an advantage as She-ra’s strength. They move cleanly from an unpatrolled warehouse to the rooftop of a walkway and, once, to a thankfully unoccupied bathroom. Eventually they reach the building they've been looking for. It is several floors taller than everything that surrounds it, covered in protrusions and thick, twisting lines of cabling. That is where they need to go.

Despite the patrol of guards and fencing, Adora and co navigate easily through the security measures and enter through a defunct maintenance entrance along the side of the building. The door would normally be locked, but that is no obstacle for their combined skills. They travel quickly through a mostly empty concrete corridor, ducking under exposed wiring and pipes. Eventually, at an intersection between two different paths, they all stop.

She meets Glimmer’s eyes with silent command, motioning with downward with her hand. Holding up two fingers, she points. _Two_ _floors down._

A well oiled machine, Adora feels the world blink in and out as she is repositioned in the same place below the most important layers of security. She waits until Bow, and finally Netossa, reappear in the space with her.

“After this, we move on foot,” she says as quietly as she can. “We will start running across both human and robot guards, once we are detected being swift will be more important than being silent.”

She waits for them nods of understanding.

“Glimmer, how are you doing?” she asks.

“Good,” she says, making a fist glow with energy. “I have more than enough to get us back out.”

“Still, take care. And good luck, everyone.”

Adora takes the sword from her back, hefting it in one hand. “For the honor of Greyskull,” ushers in the transformation, smooth as silk. The phrase was barely required, change slicking instantly through her bones and blood.

She-ra stands in front of them, bold and bright, top of her head almost brushing the ceiling.

Hand to the door in front of them, she pushes it open in one smooth movement. Ducking to clear the door frame, she is already leaping towards the guard at the end of the corridor. The butt of her sword strikes the man on the head, and he collapses into a heap. 

Behind her, Netossa weaves a net across the passage behind them, blocking any Horde troops from coming at them from behind. At least, for a while.

They take off at a run.

“We aren’t far. On this floor we need to make our way to the central control hub. Then I’ll tear up the floor, and we’ll drop down,” she says as they turn a corner, coming around to another pair of guards that they dispatch quickly.

At the end of the corridor, a vaguely humanoid robot holding a gun raises it in their direction. It must have a connection to the alarm system, as moments later emergency horns blare and strobe lights flash sickly red light up and down the hallways.

Bow lands an arrow directly in the head and another in a chest. As they sprint past the fallen mech, he snags both arrows back with a fast, wrenching motion. He can't afford to run out of ammo in this place.

“Control room is just ahead,” Adora says, foot already lifting to kick in the door. The reinforced steel isn’t strong enough to hold against the Princess of Power, crumpling inward at the pressure.

Netossa seals the route back once again as Bow, She-ra and Glimmer make quick work of the guards manning the control station.

Standing at a console, Adora navigates quickly and manages a selection before the system shuts down. “Alright, blast doors are open on the lower levels. Hopefully we won’t be going through them, but if we need to retreat they’ll be an option. Everyone ready?”

They nod, except for Glimmer who raises a hand. “Are you sure you don’t want to have me try teleporting down?”

“I’ve never actually been inside the reactor chamber. You could phase into something dangerous. If I can’t break in, we’ll try it as a last resort,” Adora says neutrally.

She clears some chairs and a cart from the center of the room, then pulls the sword from her back. For a moment she just holds it out, letting power echo back and forth from warrior to blade. The pair crackle with built up force.

Then, She-ra stabs the ground with the ancient sword, light bursting and crackling from the blade. It sinks easily into the ground, aftershocks of force widening the puncture.

She draws the blade a further towards her, then lifts it out. Leaping into the air, she comes down on the slash with a might crash. The floor buckles, the groan of metal now accompanied by the hard crack of breaking concrete. Reaching down, she tears back a layer of steel. She kicks rock through the lower opening with a few vicious snaps of her leg. A couple hacks of the sword later has expanded the hole in the layer of metal below that must be the ceiling of the reactor chamber.

“Stand back. I’m pushing through, be ready to follow,” she says, full of calm control.

Then, with a heave that ripples through her arms and shoulders, she tears upward. With a creak the whole corner bends up, leaving a large triangular gap in the floor. One leg on the curve of metal, she tucks into a roll. Dropping through the floor cleanly, she completes her spin in time to meet the floor with a good deal of momentum.

She lands in a crouch, a few feet in front of someone she really should have expected.

“Hey, Adora.”

“Catra,” she scowls, “I should have known nothing could go _this_ smoothly.”

Bow drops in behind her a moment before Glimmer, then Netossa.

They evaluate the room quickly. There are a full complement of guards there, at least 10. Plus Catra in front, and Scorpia leaning against the exit doors. The reactor itself isn’t as large as she had assumed. The diameter is only a little wider than that of the trunk of an old tree. Layers of shielding and the safety rails added up, the contraption takes up perhaps a third of the room. A console is directly attached to it, an extension of the set up on the nearest wall which is taken up by screens and a variety of control dials and switches.

Luckily for the rebels, it is too large for Catra and her soldiers to protect easily, despite their spread out defensive positions.

They have another advantage, as well. They don’t actually need to fight.

They two groups look at each other warily. Catra's nose crinkles with a scowl, sharp incisors peeking out from the thin slash of her lips. She sinks into an aggressive crouch, arms coming up into a fighting stance. Both sides spring into action a breath later, at almost the same instant.

The rebels don't need any prompting from Adora. Netossa weaves a great web and launches it through the left hand side of the room with an elegant wave of her arm. Catra’s claw flicks out and severs one side of it, but it still manages to paste 4 guards to the far wall. She-ra also doesn’t hesitate, launching herself towards Catra with a flourish. The smaller, more acrobatic fighter easily dives out of the way, claws flashing at an exposed arm as she passes. An elbow drives down above her, but Catra is again too fast, landing a shallow swipe against her arm as she twists away.

But Catra can tell something is wrong. Not only is Bow hanging back, Glimmer is as well. She has seen the fiery Princess in enough fights to know she isn’t one to sit on the back lines. She turns in time to see another net constrain a second group of guards on the far side of the reactor. She hisses, mind racing.

At this, Bow docks an arrow and sets his aim on the console connected to the reactor.

“Now!” Catra shouts, turning to Scorpia before launching herself at a pipe running along the ceiling.

Unfortunately for them, Bow is faster. His first arrow sinks cleanly into the console, with an small bundle of wires and tubes sticking off the end. He manages to loose a second directly into the carbon fiber shielding of the reactor before they find out what Catra had planned.

At once deep blue, sickly electricity crackles in the the floor throughout the entire room. All the people with their feet touching the ground crumple with a holler of pain. Even She-ra drops to one knee with a grimace, sword digging into the ground and barely holding her upright. All the horde guards are debilitated as well, apart from Scorpia on the stairs and Catra on the ceiling.

But that doesn’t stop a light attached to Bow’s arrow from flicking red with a soft beep, unnoticed over the crackling of electricity.

She-ra turns, gasping with pain. “Glimmer, get them out,” she pleads.

Catra cackles from the ceiling. “Don’t bother, guards are already coming to retrieve anyone who makes it upstairs.”

Standing close enough to touch, Glimmer grabs Bow’s arm and they pop away with a wrenched gasp from Glimmer.

The light on the end of Bow’s arrow flickers red a second time.

“Having fun down there Adora? I’ll let you free if you drop the sword and surrender,” Catra taunts from above.

The tall warrior doesn’t even seem to hear her, half turning to face Netossa where she is caught partway into the room. Sword dragging in her left hand, she manages a stunted leap towards the shorter woman that leaves them both on the floor twitching with shocks from the electricity.

A moment later, an explosion rattles through the room. The console blows entirely away from the reactor, showering the room with sharp metal strips and electronic debris. The worst of it skitters off She-ra’s armor.

Scorpia turns to Catra in alarm, looking with concern between broken electronics and her snarling superior officer. 

A moment later the room goes dark, power flickering out. It also, Adora realizes with a groan of relief, has shut down whatever that electrical trap had been. Collapsing to the side, she slides free of Netossa so she can be evacuated.

“Glimmer, it’s safe,” she shouts weakly.

Pink hair appears in a flash, crouching near both of them. But just as Adora is about to speak, the lights flicker back on.

“...What?” is all she has time to say before they go back out again with an unpleasant electronic screeching.

Glimmer puts a hand on Netossa’s shoulder but Adora shakes her head, waiting for something.

After a moment, it happens. The reactor tries to start up again with a horrible lurch, steam pouring from the hole in the side of the shielding. The power flickers on and off another time.

“This is wrong. There should be safety measures in place, it should be shutting down,” Adora says, eyes frantic.

“What did you stupid bitches _do_?” Catra screeches from the ceiling, dropping aggressively from the pipe.

Adora ignores her. “If it overheats, it’ll explode and kill us all. There is no way we’ll get clear in time.”

Netossa sits up with a wince. “I might be able to contain it, give me a minute.”

Catra launches herself at them, and Adora stands to meet the her. Their limbs tangle as the taller warrior tosses Catra to the side.

With a shaking hand, Netossa flings a net around the column of the generator, ends not managing to wrap around. Face screwing up, she tries again, casting a wider net that at last manages to loop twice.

“Catra stop, we need to run! Take your people and get out of here!” Adora shouts at her desperately, as the other woman prepares to launch herself again.

Unfortunately for all of them, this time the reactor manages to complete its start sequence. The screens along the wall come to life, displaying red bars and warning notifications as the lights above come back online.

A moment later, electricity crackles across the floor again. All of them collapse to the ground, including the unlucky and spitting mad Catra.

“Scorpia, turn this crap off. We’ve gotta get out!” she screeches from the floor.

But not for the first time in the night, Scorpia wears a very concerned look on her face. “No can do, boss. I tried, nothing happens.”

“For god's sake–” Catra’s exclamation is cut off by a rocking tremor.

Adora looks panicked as well. “Get Netossa out,” she says, looking at Glimmer.

“I won’t leave you!” Glimmer gasps, shaking her head.

“Then come back! But go, now!” she says, shoving Glimmer gently.

With a grimace, the two of them disappear.

Most of her energy expended, Adora falls at last. Trembling on elbows and knees, panting, she grits her teeth. Blonde hair hangs down in her face, tinged a sickly teal from the blue light of the electricity.

Across from her, the high hissing noise of the reactor is getting louder. The steam has stopped pouring from the gaping hole, which Adora knows is a bad sign. All the coolant has already evaporated. It will blow anytime.

She looks up at Catra, across the room. Their eyes hold with a shocked, worried intensity. Her teeth chatter against the many smaller shocks, a groan erupting from deep in her chest.

Glimmer reappears by Adora’s side, gasping as electricity arcs into her.

“No, Glimmer. It’s too late, it’s going to-” is all she gets out before their world is cut off by a blinding flash of light.

* * *

Up above, Bow crouches behind a console as the reactor goes up.

Netossa strains next to him, face uncharacteristically pale, to control the force of the explosion. Normally, it would be impossible. If she was trying to contain it she would certainly fail. The sheer amount of energy would blow the net apart. But she did not fully surround the source of such colossal force. She wrapped around the sides of it. The energy has a path it can travel, one with less resistance than that of Netossa's magically reinforced weaving.

Holding the circle of her barrier, the magnificent force of the explosion is redirected. She forces it into the paths of least resistance: straight up, and straight down. The explosion races up through the building and out into the open sky. The blast chews instantly through layer after layer of ceiling, sending a deep shudder through the entire building.

If the reactor had been the bottom floor of the underground facility, as the blueprints would indicate if you looked at them, the explosion would have blown down to the foundations of the building and caused the whole thing to crash down around their ears.

But it wasn’t, and it didn't. The shock of the initial force and the shaking of the building terrify it's occupants, but it stands.

With an arm over his eyes to protect him from the cascade of rubble and falling bits of machinery still falling, Bow walks close enough to get a look at the hole in the floor. He peers down, and sees a gaping chasm stretching down further floor after floor after floor.

“Netossa, will you be okay here for a bit?” he asks, turning to her with unconcealed worry.

She nods. “Spinnerella will be coming soon after _that_ , don’t worry. The Horde has bigger problems than me right now, but even if they didn’t I could hold them off. Go make sure Glimmer and Adora are ok.”

“Do you think…” he trails off, afraid to even ask the question.

“The majority of the explosion was redirected out of the room. Their only injuries should be from the fall, and whatever happened during the fight,” she says.

Bow's face goes slack with relief. “Thank goodness,” he sighs. He takes a few steps towards the hole, then stops and turns back to Netossa.

"I will never underestimate nets again," he says solemnly.

“You better not!” she exclaims from the floor with a cocky but exhausted grin.

He grins, and turns back to the center of the room.

Standing at the edge of the hole, he pulls a grappling hook off of his belt. Muttering a quick _‘Thank-you Seahawk_ ’, he leaps.

* * *

When he reaches the bottom, he is rather surprised to find Adora, Glimmer, and Catra all collapsed together in a petrified heap.

He runs over, shaking Glimmer’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She moans, “Yes, we’re okay. Just… stunned.”

Adora wriggles out from underneath the pile. “Glimmer managed to teleport us through most of the fall, we only went down two or three floors before she caught us.”

She stands, miraculously still She-ra, brushing dust and concrete off her skirt. “Thanks for the save, Glimmer.”

Glimmer sits up, holding her head. “Anytime, Adora.”

In her hand, the sword pulses with light.

“What?” she asks softly.

And then she looks up.

They are surrounded by some kind of advanced technology. Tech that is unlike anything they have ever seen. It is nothing like the spare, sophisticated ruins of the first ones. But it also bears little resemblance to the utility and complexity of the Horde’s normal technology.

It is fundamentally sleeker and simpler. But somehow, ineffably conveyed in the elegant lines and intricate cabling, is the fact that it is much, much more advanced.

“What is this?” Adora asks, spinning to look all around the room.

In every corner are complex gadgets of incomprehensible purpose and unknown origin. She could not guess at the function of even one device. But as she finishes turning, she realizes she was mistaken.

There is just one thing she can recognize.

It looks like a doorway. Curves of metal form a roughly octagonal shape, attached to complex controlling machinery. But, it is recognizably a portal.

_To where? Can Hordak actually use this?_

The sword feels like it is burning in her hand.

“Catra, what _is_ this?” she asks, knowing it’s useless as soon as the words are out.

“Are you crazy? I’ve obviously never seen any of this in my life!” Catra says, glaring as she stands.

“This is bad. Something about this is very very bad,” she says, looking down at the sword.

“Adora, what’s wrong?” Glimmer asks from next to Bow.

“I don’t know, but the sword is seriously interested in burning this room to the ground,” Adora says.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” comes a cold voice from the back of the room.

They whirl around to see none other than Hordak himself, in person.

Adora doesn’t require time to react, launching herself at him with alacrity.

Her beautiful diving slash is repelled effortlessly by one arm. It morphs into a tapered shield with a few quick slides of metal, and Adora's sword glances off. He tilts the shield so her own momentum drives her past him and she has to skid to a halt.

Catra moves to Hordak’s side in a quick bound. As she moves Adora swings at her, but Catra ducks under the shoulder high slash with a smirk.

Before Adora can turn back to him, Hordak transforms his other arm into a weighty hammer, traced with complex patterns of metal. He brings it down solidly against Adora, whose parry causes a solid crystalline ‘ting’ to echo through the room as the two weapons make contact. She has just a moment to wonder what metal that hammer could be made from before Catra dives into the fray. Turning, Catra still manages to connect a swipe that rips through Adora's white tunic and cuts a gouge below her ribs. At that, Glimmer teleports in, delivering a fierce kick to Catra's side and then retreating as Hordak counterstrikes.

Adora can feel that she should be exhausted, her body depleted from the continuous exertion of the day. But something inside the sword drives her onward. She only glows brighter. Her eyes ignite with fiery azure as she drives herself against Hordak again and again.

Behind them, Bow tries to line up a shot, scoring only a glancing blow to Hordak. The arrow slides off his armor, clattering to the ground.

Eventually Adora jumps back, settling into another fighting stance. But when she speaks the voice sounds more like the ancient warrior of the sword than the 17 year old girl who wields her.

“Luckily, I’m not here to defeat you. I’m here to do this,” she says, swinging her arm so the sword arcs from Hordak to the portal in one smooth motion.

“Stop,” Hordak says with deadly calm.

But She-ra doesn’t spare him a moment’s pause. Her sword ignites with light.

“You’ve forgotten my last trump card, _Adora_ ,” he spits out. One arm shifts into a spear with three sharp, angled prongs.

It’s enough to draw Adora’s eyes to him.

The smallest motion extends the spear, catching Catra by the neck and slamming her against the wall several feet in the air.

She yelps, kicking her feet into nothing. One arm comes up to claw at the metal base of the weapon. “You bastard!” she hisses, practically snarling even as blood seeps down her neck.

Adora stops cold.

“You wouldn’t, you traitorous son of a--!” Catra yowls.

Hordak doesn’t justify that with a response, meeting Adora’s eyes across the room

“I am the one who decides how the Horde will best serve,” Hordak’s voice cuts through tense, horrified silence.

The prongs of his spear dig into Catra’s neck where it pins her to the wall. Adora doesn’t lower her sword, but the unnatural brightness of her eyes gutters out. Her heart feels squeezed by a fist.

“Leave now, or your friend dies,” he states the ultimatum, at last.

“You can’t be serious!?” Bow exclaims from the side of the room.

Hordak responds by pushing the spear in deeper against Catra’s throat.

“You have 30 seconds to decide,” he finishes.

“Come on Adora,” Glimmer pleads, though she isn’t sure for what.

Adora half turns to face her, arm shaking. “I can’t,” she says, so softly it’s barely a gasp. “I love her.”

Catra is too far away to hear what she said. But she doesn’t need to. She already knows. She knows in her bones what Adora said. Her jaw clenches, other arm coming up to struggle against the spear. Her eyes are narrowed and so filled with rage that its only source could be the desire to feel absolutely nothing else.

Glimmer huffs, narrowing her eyes. She is way too tired to try something like this.

_Being a hero is a real drag sometimes._

She thinks about how much time they have left. Maybe 5 seconds?

Glimmer meets Adora’s eye with the barest flick of a motion towards Catra.

Up front, Adora straightens. The sword drops from her hand and clatters to the ground.

In the same instant, Glimmer flicks out and in and out of existence again in a split second burst, taking Catra with her.

* * *

Glimmer doesn’t stop teleporting until they reach the roof of the building. She needs to see the sky.

Catra, who has been trapped in an oddly angled headlock prior to this, resumes struggling.

“Fuck!” she barks, “Let me go you sparkly bitch!”

Glimmer releases her, but doesn’t take a step back. “Stop that. We have to keep going. I assume even _you_ have enough dignity not to crawl back to the Horde after this,” she says, perhaps unkindly.

Catra only scowls in response.

“If you are going to run off by yourself you’ll need some supplies,” Glimmer continues, sighing.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

She rolls her eyes in response. “I know that if you sleep exposed in the wilderness you’ll _die_ from the cold or the giant monsters, genius.”

“Whatever,” Catra huffs, crossing her arms.

Glimmer stops. She wants to apologize, for some reason. She wants to say, _I’m sorry_ and have it mean something. But she knows it won’t. That nothing will mean much, in this particular moment. She has no idea what to say at all.

She is angry and sad and exhausted.

She wants to shout. Wants to be angry at Catra, say scornful things about what happens when you choose an evil dictator over one of the best people she has ever met. Wants to try and understand all the good things that must be there somewhere in this angry and sullen girl to still bind Adora so strongly to her.

Glimmer takes a couple deep, steadying breaths.

She looks up at the moon, and thinks about her Mom who is surely worrying about them at this very moment.

' _I wonder if Mom would know what to say?’_ she wonders to herself.

Sighing, she tilts her head back, stretching her neck and shoulders.

“Alright, let’s keep going,” she says, laying a hand on Catra’s arm.

The things she does for friendship.

* * *

She is still She-ra, for all that the sword isn’t in her hand at the moment. She doesn’t need a sword to cause destruction.

Hordak knows it as well, though he retracts the spear into an arm calmly. He is still tense, ready for action, but his eyes are calculating.

“Her escape is irrelevant. You know she won’t go with you. I will hunt her to the ends of Etheria,” he says at last with diplomatic measure.

The content and tone of his words are so at odds the wrongness of it causes ill tremors to work their way up and down Adora’s back. She wants to be sick. She knows he is right. She wishes more than anything that Catra would leave with them, but she knows better. And she knows Hordak will follow through with his threat.

And yet, if Catra is free? If Catra leaves the Horde, at last. Then she has a chance. Some hope, any hope, is better than the scraps she was left with before.

The burning will she had felt when she entered this place has died to faint embers. She still feels the pull, to burn this vile place to the ground and leave nothing but ashes. But it is so far away from her now.

She tries to be rational. Whatever is here, it is dangerous to leave it in Hordak’s hands. But then again, if he hasn’t actively been using it up to this point, something must be preventing him. Can she afford to lose this opportunity though, in order to protect one person? One person who doesn’t even want her?

On the other hand, can she afford to go nuclear with Hordak at this moment of their conflict? She knows if she strikes now, the Horde will retaliate more severely than they have ever seen. If he was willing to sacrifice Catra as his second in command over this place, the fight he would put up against them over it? The assault on Brightmoon he would order in revenge? It would be a massacre, even if they won.

Bow slips his arrow back into his quiver, trotting to her side. He puts a hand on her arm.

She tries for peace, for rationality, over the chaos. They cannot afford an extreme reprisal at this time. The rebellion has just started to pick up momentum. Adora can tell she is too tired to be a match for Hordak right now, as well.

Even peripheral damage to this technology might hurt Hordak enough to offset those factors. 

_She never asked for this responsibility. She never asked for the sword, never asked for..._

She stops herself and takes a deep breath.

_There is no right decision._

Adora decides to trust herself, to trust her own heart. The benefits and risks are almost precisely equal on both sides, whichever choice she makes. So the deciding factor comes down to one person.

_Catra._

“Let us leave safely,” she says at last. She closes her eyes against the burn of potential tears, “Let us leave, and I’ll go without causing any more destruction. And let Catra do whatever she wants. She goes free. Or... if she wants to come back to the Horde, after all this. After she does… whatever she is going to do. Let her. No questions, no consequences. Those are my terms.”

“Accepted,” Hordak says sharply. “You have 30 minutes to be out of my territory.”

She turns to Bow, melting back into Adora.

“Let’s go,” she says, a pained gasp.

* * *

“Careful, careful,” Spinnerella chants, as Swift Wind attempts a vertical descent into the hole blasted in the building. Her hands are raised, little gusts dancing around her fingers.

“I am being careful! Flying simply doesn’t _work this way_ ,” Swift Wind chortles with annoyance.

He is quite correct. What they are doing is better described as ‘falling very slowly’. Swift Wind is diving by degrees, gently looping down floor by floor.

The pair pass the control room where they picked up Netossa earlier, continuing down to where Swift Wind can feel the pull of his pack-leader.

But in the next room, something gives Spinnerella pause. A tall, rather spiky woman, trapped on a thin slicing of floor between a wall and a long, long fall.

“Going down?” Spinnerella asks with a friendly smile. Just because they are the enemies doesn’t mean one can’t be polite.

“Yes, please,” the woman says with relief.

As they come down closer, Spinnerella realizes she has seen the figure before. At one of their battles, of course. Ah well, she won’t regret a kindness, no matter who towards.

Spinnerella holds out her hand, motioning towards Swift Wind who is trying to hold himself steady.

“I am not a transport service!” he mutters sullenly, which no one gives any mind.

Using the extended arm as a balance, Scorpia makes a quick hop onto the horse's back.

Swift Wind dips dangerously for a moment, then stabilizes as Spinnerella balances them again. She looks over her shoulder at the tall, silver haired woman behind her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard your name?” she asks, as placidly as she can manage. This is still a Horde soldier, after all.

Scorpia grins with genuine warmth though, and Spinnerella relaxes. “I’m Scorpia. Pleased to, well, not meet…”

Spinnerella has to laugh. “No, no, I know what you mean. Pleased to meet you in these… particular circumstances.”

With a wave of her hand, she resumes their descent. “We’ll consider this a temporary truce, how about? No reason we can’t be friendly, I say. I’m only here as adult supervision anyhow,” she says with a chipper grin.

“That’s a very nice idea,” Scorpia agrees good naturedly.

“The kids around here get very out of hand sometimes.” Spinnerella feels like she has stepped into some strange alternate universe.

“I hope you aren’t including me in that,” Swift Wind says from below.

They continue to drift down, until small figures appear far below them. Eager, Swift Wind folds his wings in and steepens their descent. A few moments later he lands solidly against the ground and the two riders are able to hop off safely.

Scorpia takes a step, looking around anxiously. There hadn’t been any loud fighting, so she had assumed things had concluded reasonably well.

But even at first glance, something is wrong.

Adora and Bow stand in the middle of the room, which is both suspiciously spotless to have been a battleground and filled to the brim with technology she has never seen before. Though Scorpia does not consider herself terribly smart, it takes her only a moment to realize what else is wrong. Exactly half of the occupants she was expecting are missing.

She turns to Adora, who looks like her heart has been carved out and tossed on the floor.

“What is this place? What… happened?” she asks.

Adora doesn’t look up, though.

Spinnerella walks to her with a worried look on her face.

Bow is the one to answer. “This is some kind of super secret lab. Hordak didn’t want us touching anything in here, so he, uh. He… he threatened Catra, to make us leave. He left a minute ago, if you were… uhhh, looking, for him?” Bow finishes awkwardly.

“That’s ridiculous,” Scorpia says with a pained laugh.

But she gets her answer in the blank stare Adora gives her. She had known Adora, before. Not well, but well enough to be surprised that such a disciplined and successful cadet had turned traitor.

“It’s true,” Adora says, sounding blank and unfocused, “‘Retreat or Catra dies’, that’s what he said, his own…” she trails off.

Scorpia doesn't have a response to that. Her insides feel frozen to the quick.

Adora finally looks up. “Let’s go. I want to go home.”

* * *

“And here we are!” Glimmer says with forced cheer, shimmying under a jagged piece of metal. The wall breaks where a bottom section of plating had been pulled off.

“We stashed a bunch of supplies in case anyone got caught here and needed to leave separately. With all the stuff the rebellion’s been doing, my Mom has been getting _super_ paranoid. But Adora gets all into it, she digs all that planning stuff,” she continues with a laugh.

“I don’t care,” Catra says with sharp, forced boredom.

“I guess ‘making smalltalk’ wasn’t covered during all your Horde propaganda classes?” she replies, waving her hands jauntily.

The small, oblong room is filled with round canisters and shelves stacked with obsolescent technology. Glimmer navigates around them, crouching near a group of barrels in the back of the room.

“Yeah, because hanging out with you is such a draw. Where else could I ever want to be?” Catra says, voice high and mocking.

“Come on, don’t act like you want me to stand here looking at you with ‘oh poor Catra’ eyes,” Glimmer says, rotating a container, looking for a pattern of marks they had scratched onto their hiding spots.

Catra’s ears twitch back angrily, but she can’t deny that particular statement.

“There we go,” Glimmer exclaims, finding what she was looking for.

She tips the canister on its side, a variety of packages and bags tumbling out.

“Come on,” she says, looking up at Catra.

Catra crouches near her, reaching for the closest item.

Sticking her head in the barrel, Glimmer fishes out one last object lodged in the bottom. She pulls out a small frame, with arm straps and an attached bag made of tough canvas material.

“This is a sturdy traveling backpack, fill it up with whatever you think you’ll need,” she says laying it on the ground next to the pile.

Catra has opened one bag, but is obviously struggling to process what she wants or needs. The horde did not exactly help them plan for camping trips, outside of issuing standard sets of gear and rations.

Glimmer huffs. She picks up a tent, packing it tightly in the bottom of the backpack. She scoops up several more necessary items like flint, utensils, a hunting knife, and a pot, fitting them in as tightly as she can. She remembers how she learned, years ago. Her lessons came from one of her Mom's generals. She remembers lying under the stars, feeling like she was on a great adventure. 

She dumps the largest bag, which contains their supply of food and water. Glimmer wants to ask about Catra's preferences, but the woman doesn't look capable of explaining what she wants for breakfast, not to mention making complex survival related choices. She decides to just give her everything, everything she can feasibly fit into the backpack anyhow. If the pack is too heavy she'll just have to trash some later. She manages to fit most of it, needing to dump and repack the whole thing just once. It's like a puzzle, making everything fit together. The backpack looks stuffed, but the clasps cinch closed. Glimmer tilts her head, trying to imagine whether she has missed anything important.

She taps her chin. “You’ll have enough food and water for a few weeks if you ration carefully. There’s only a small field tent. It fits one person, and has light magical camouflage and heat insulation. Just don’t travel too far North, that’s where the Kingdom of Snows starts.”

She is mid thought about what else Catra might need to know when she hears the beat of wings high above. Glimmer is torn, though. On one hand, Catra would obviously like to slip out without having to talk to anyone. On the other, talking to Adora might do her some good.

Catra narrows her eyes at the proffered bag. “Why are you doing this?” Her whole body is tense with anger, but the question sounds genuine, for once.

“Ugh. You know why,” Glimmer says with frustration. As if either of them are ready to have a conversation about Adora right now. “You should hurry up, unless you want to run into…”

Her words are cut off by the creak of metal as Adora pushes her way into the room.

Too late.

They are all frozen for a moment, startled and awkward.

Glimmer almost laughs. Adora must have practically leapt off Swift Wind in midair to have gotten down this quickly.

“Catra?” asks Adora softly.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Catra glares up at her.

“Okay. Okay. I won’t…” she pauses to take a breath, “I won’t say anything. Just give me one minute.”

“One minute to what?” but the question is barely out of her mouth before Adora starts moving.

Too much has happened. On any other day, Adora would be held back by doubt, by fear and anxiety and self-recrimination. She would wonder what Catra wants, twist herself into knots about how she might feel. She would doubt herself.

But not today.

Adora crosses the room in a few quick strides, sweeping Catra into a tight embrace. One arm wraps tightly around her waist. The other buries itself deep in wild brown hair, cupping the back of her head. Whatever Catra was going to say comes out a startled yelp instead. Her arms hang rigid at her sides, determined even now to resist the necessity of comfort.

Catra feels like a string pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment. Anger and fear and resentment will not release her. But there is a peace, a clarity, to the moment that draws her own head forward to rest in the crook of Adora’s neck. She feels the rise and fall of Adora’s chest against her chin, the gentle scratch of blunt fingernails against the back of her head. Her eyes close involuntarily.

Her and Catra had never hugged much, when they were with the Horde. It had felt foolish, like showing off an exploitable vulnerability. But they should have. They should, Adora thinks. She turns in, burying her nose in Catra’s hair. She stops fighting the burn in her eyes, lets the tears drip down her nose. She knows Catra can feel it too, the dampness in her hair, the shuddering of Adora’s breathing, for all that her crying is silent.

She isn’t ashamed. Catra should have known. She never should have wondered what Adora thought of her, never should have doubted what she meant to her. Never. These are lessons the rebellion taught her, she couldn't have understood before. Shadow Weaver’s tutelage wasn't exactly focused on relationship skills. She hopes it is a mistake she gets the chance to correct.

Maybe that is her job. Maybe that is why she is She-ra. All around her, people seem to have run short on hope years past, or to never have had it in the first place. Adora decides, she will hold on.

Bow, unnoticed by the two preoccupied women, has sidled carefully across the room to stand next to Glimmer. She mouths ‘ _O_ _ne minute?’_ at him, and they chuckle together, looking at the pair of them.

Catra seems to realize it too, that her momentary lapse has grown a bit too extended. She reaches up with one hand, squeezing Adora’s elbow.

Adora nods, releasing Catra and stepping back. She doesn't try to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She just shuts her eyes, jaw clenching.

Bending down to pick up the backpack, Catra slings it over one shoulder and shifts from foot to foot, getting used to the added weight. She looks at the door, seeming to consider the finality of leaving with new weight.

“You could…” Adora starts, and then stops. She can’t resist at least making the offer, even though she knows Catra won’t take it.

_You could come with us._

“No,” Catra says, eyes going hard. She turns for the exit, crouching to fit under the partition with the added height of her pack.

Adora feels a little ill. She manages to paste a sickly looking smile on her face and give a shallow nod of parting to Catra as she goes.

“Good luck,” Glimmer adds, with surprising genuineness.

And with that, Catra leaves.

* * *

She had known exactly the route she wanted to take, Catra realizes. She knew it as soon as she started walking. Her mind traces back through a thousand explorations of this place, climbing up high and wiggling through cracks, mapping out every inch of the place that was her prison, her home.

Now she sits, kicking her feet against a low lying defensive wall at the very outer limits of the Fright Zone. The border lies right below her, just a few steps forward.

Even though so much has changed, something about it feels like the whole rest of her life anyhow, like she can’t really escape it. It’s the same thing. She has all these options, but there really isn’t any choice.

Even in her head, it sounds stupid. She stops, forces herself to really consider it.

What happened wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Okay, her mission went pretty poorly. But not bad enough to get her rank stripped. Hordak would let her come back, if she wanted to. He probably wouldn’t even say anything about it. Just go on like nothing happened.

Like it was all just an unfortunate incident.

But she can’t pretend that. She is still in shock, but she can feel the ocean of self-loathing rearing up to swallow her up again. How easy it was, for someone else to throw her away.

Her rank in the horde, her plans, everything she had done to Adora, to Hordak it was nothing but moves in a game. He had used her, the same way everyone else always had.

And she fell for it. Like a sucker. Again and again and again, all anyone has to do is toss some crumbs at her feet and she falls for it.

She wants to scream.

Her claws dig into the metal of the wall.

She forces herself to breath out, slowly.

She wants... not answers. But something. Something the Fright Zone doesn’t have, and Adora doesn’t have, and maybe nobody has.

But she has always wanted to travel. To see the world.

And who is to say that what she is looking for, isn’t out there somewhere?

Catra hops down off the wall. She adjusts her backpack, stalling, but only for a moment.

Then she steels her nerve, picks up her foot, and steps over the border.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I had a great time writing this, and I'd love to know what worked/didn't work for you and what things you liked. This story came out to 25 pages and took me roughly 40 hours to plan/write/edit so basically a full work week. The amount of time and effort fan content takes to produce often becomes 'invisible', since people read a lot of fic and enjoy a lot of art! So, I really appreciate everyone who interacts with the things I write. It helps me learn and makes writing feel like something I'm sharing with a community, rather than something weird I did while sitting at a desk in the dark at 1am. 
> 
> Also, come visit me on [tumblr](http://ladyptarmigan.tumblr.com/)! I love discussing characters/shows/fandoms. I also reblog video game stuff and cool bits of poetry. And cats.


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